


Candles on a Birthday Cake

by reminiscence



Category: Birthday (manga)
Genre: Freeverse, M/M, Poetry, ffn challenge: 100 prompts challenge, ffn challenge: mega prompts challenge, ffn challenge: scrabble challenge, ffn challenge: the minesweeper challenge, poetry collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminiscence/pseuds/reminiscence
Summary: There was always a candle that hadn't quite gone out.





	1. those words of goodbye that never finish being said

You tried to say goodbye, but still  
the hole you left behind was deep:  
those unspoken words crying  
like the cloudy songs  
of the sky above, the sun lying in wait  
for the morrow, where happier hearts will smile  
towards it

But today, it leaves us with the sky a grey  
to mourn for this loss: this tragedy  
we could not avoid.


	2. dying amongst death but still hanging on to hope

He never left the hospital  
and yet he was still so hopeful, so bright,  
Even surrounded by all that sickness  
and death and hopelessness  
and people like him  
who hadn't been able to find anything good  
in life…but there was a guy who was dying amongst death  
and hanging on to hope.


	3. the blandness of hospital food and the sweet taste of laughs

They weren't going to cure him like that.

He wasn't sick anyway.  
Just bored.  
Just fed up: with everything,  
with life.

He doubted even a gourmet meal  
would have any taste  
in his mouth.

But then he found a friend  
and they laughed  
and the food tasted just the same,  
unpalpabe, unfilling

But that was okay  
because he wasn't now wasting away:  
he had those laughs instead  
to fill him up.


	4. the ants that kept their heads down and ignored the light

He'd crawl on the floor,  
on the roof and never look down  
at the shimmering lights, at the ants that crawled  
in search for food

Because he was one of those ants  
himself, not yet fit to rise, not wanting,  
even, to rise...

So low, he'd fallen  
into the haze, and woken up  
and bright glaring lights stripped him bare.

But now he had pulled himself up  
like a babe, first hanging onto a chair  
to stand, but later teetering on their feet  
with hands in air

And standing, tall and proud above the crowd  
and with crumbs in hand to call those sad  
crawling ants like old he  
where the lights glare.


	5. the parts of the body slowly waste away

His legs have gone numb.

When was the last time he moved?  
When was the last time he had somewhere  
he could go

Beyond the small cone he sunk within:  
the walls that grew tighter each time  
until they were a corset,  
until they were a bottle  
with the lid screwed tight  
and he couldn't breath no more...

His fingers have fallen off.

When was the last time he moved?  
When was the last time he had something  
new to touch?

His eyes have shrunk inwards.

When was the last time he saw anything  
beyond this scene, already burnt into his eyes?

His body has become a shell.

When was the last time it was something but?


	6. alcohol and medicines don't mix

They're oil and water, meds and gin,  
but honestly? He can't bring himself to care.  
He's already spent. He'll waste away  
and the bandaids are only prolonging the end.  
Blood seeps out. Fluid leaks  
from his ears, nose and brain  
till he's a dry sack of bones  
and they burn the sack and leave the bones.


	7. enjoying the fine details

Was it appreciation  
or desperation?

The fine arts,  
or boredom that nothing could sate  
and this was the next best thing.

At least they could pretend to laugh  
over chubs and their unfortunate names  
or clown fish, or the shark that snoozed away  
in a clip, unbecoming.

They're not fans. They're not marines.  
They're just watching the clock tick  
and they know it'll stop but what else is there to do  
(at least for him)  
except dwindle away.


	8. please say 'yes' for me

He's turned into quite the manipulator.  
Always gets a yes in the end.  
Always has to. Never wants to hear a fail  
even though he's only human and humans fail.

Sometimes it's not him. Still, he's responsible.  
He's the one who can't cajole them.  
They're the ones who won't listen.  
They're the ones with a marker on their grave,  
and he's with a black mark onto his name.

So he'll play the board  
because those black marks scar  
and he's got enough of those.


	9. not even gold will always shine

Not even gold will always shine  
but he's not gold. Not pure enough  
though he can be made to shine  
with the right amount of polish.

He's a mockery of gold instead.  
Pretending to be good, pretending to be clean  
when he's all bad and rusty  
underneath.


	10. midnight party

They sneak down when it's dark and all the nights are off  
and there's only one nurse at the station, and her head's on the desk  
and the computer screen slumbers, black and untouched  
and their footsteps are gentle pads down the hall.

The ward fridge is hardly stocked that late at night  
but so bright when they open the door.  
Sandwiches left behind. Some cartons of milk  
for tea and coffee, and custards and jellys for desert.

Hardly a party menu, but the thrill of it's still there  
and it's their right as well, as residents of that ward.  
They gorge themselves, out of sight and sound.  
It's bad for the body, but good for the mind.


	11. the sniper from out of bounds

He was a fighter, first and all,  
punching, kicking, pounding home  
and glaring at all the rest.  
But some things he couldn't fight,  
not as he was: not with his body,  
but instead with his mind.

He was a sniper, now and through,  
picking out his targets in the flock  
and pegging them  
to the wall.  
Some things he couldn't catch.  
Some slipped away.  
But he could tower over  
those few that remained  
and crush them underfoot.


	12. there's no green out there

There's no road ahead of him now.

There might've been,  
once upon a time.  
He's long since veered off

And isn't it sad that he doesn't even  
have a licence yet, and now  
he never will. It's too long a wait.

And he doesn't want to wait.  
There's no road ahead of him now  
that he can see: just the same old  
grey bland landscape, like a desert  
field – and really, it may as well be  
a desert field

For all it's stopped him in his tracks  
'cause there's no green out there.


	13. he's too old at nineteen

Nineteen was too chunky of an age.  
Nine was better  
when there were still dreams out there  
and he still had them  
and when he was so colour-blind, he couldn't  
tell there was no colour to have been seen  
anyway.


	14. this is the path you’ve put me on and I’ll stay on it this time

This is the path you've put me on  
and I'll stay on it this time.

I know I've wandered off before,  
but I definitely won't this time.

You pulled me back from the edge  
I'd failed to cross once and was  
heading for again.

You showed this old worn out me  
something worth trying  
again.

And then you went and died  
instead of me, and I couldn't do  
a thing

And I still can't

But I'll stay on this path you've put me on  
so one day I can.


	15. the seeds can grow better now

They were choking before  
with weeds and dirty soil  
and polluted water

But you took the time to pull them out.  
Each and every weed.  
And you brought fresh new soil  
from the nursery and covered me  
warm and snug.  
And you watered me from your  
fresh water bottle every day  
even though you had to take your medicines  
with that water anyway.

You cared for me, even though you were ill.  
You helped me out, even though the one  
who needed help the most was you.

And I got better, but you only got worse  
even though you smiled  
and I only wished, this plant that I'm growing  
into can do something for you

But what you ask for in return is so small  
in comparison, I wonder why you ask  
at all: aren't I already here

But we both already know, that even now  
I can do no more.


	16. he can no longer fade away

He can no longer fade away,  
with every swab, every time  
they tie the tourniquet on his arm  
and draw some blood  
and then frown over the results.

His mind used to wander  
as though he was dead already  
up in the clouds

But now he can only cry,  
because there's something  
closer to earth to smile upon.


	17. don't you understand how precious life is?

It disturbed him  
at first.

How could someone just toss away  
their life when he tried so hard  
to cling onto his  
and it still slipped away?

It was painful.  
Horrific.  
Beyond understanding.  
And it made him angry  
because he wanted that:  
that which that other boy  
would just toss aside

But then they got to talk  
and they realised  
the grass always was greener  
on the other side.


	18. hospitals weren't a pretty place

Hospitals weren't a pretty place,  
full of the dead  
and the nearly dead  
and the ones who wanted to die  
like him  
and the primadonnas who were  
nowhere near death.


	19. they can still have parties indoors when it rains

It seemed silly dressing up  
but they did it anyway.  
They dressed each other up,  
spiked their hair,  
painted their faces  
and sung and danced  
and partied on jelly  
from the fridge

Because this was their celebration,  
all they could do together  
now that he was trapped  
in there

But they could do all these  
things together, so maybe it didn't matter  
he couldn't go outside  
anymore.


	20. they no longer want to say 'farewell'

They no longer want to say farewell  
but now they must:

Their time's been short  
but it's coming to a closer  
and now the angel  
knocks on the door.

Once upon a time, he would have wanted  
it to come, to come and take his soul

But it's not here for him  
at all.

And for who he's come, he's always  
wanted to stay alive, live another day  
and now even more, together  
forever –

But forever's not to be  
and his timer's run out.  
The angel's calling now  
and it's time to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for various challenges


End file.
